A Moment Worthy of the Woman
by DanPettit
Summary: It's spring time in the year after the Battle of Hogwarts and the Wizarding world is begining to recover. Hermione has started her career with the Ministry and Ron fears they will drift apart. He asks a reluctant Harry to help him take the next step.
1. Chapter 1

**The Chair.**

_"Grief teaches the steadiest minds to waver."  
Sophocles_

Fall came early the year of "The Battle of Hogwarts". Nature herself having seen too much, pulled the covers over her head and retired early, exhausted. A long, cold, depressing winter followed. Now, in early April, she took her first tentative peek above the blankets. The cold rain had finally stopped and the days were warming. Nesting birds and budding flowers proclaimed the season. Despite everything, spring had arrived.

It had become a regular thing, Sunday dinner at the Weasley's, and Harry caught himself gazing at The Chair again. He thought he was over that, and glanced guiltily around the table to see if anyone had noticed.

Arthur and George were discussing George's new prototype hat. It had only one ear flap, into which was set a cup-like device that worked like an Extendable Ear. George was still working on a name but he was thinking about the "'Ear We Go Again Hat". Harry thought George was just pulling Arthur's leg, but it made them all laugh- even Ron, who had been moping around all evening.

It seemed he had gotten away with staring until Molly caught his eye from across the room. She gave him a worried look as the dishes stacked themselves into the cupboard. Harry didn't want to talk about it again and was relieved when she didn't say anything. As she moved around the table, wiping her hands on her apron, she paused behind him and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"Ron, have you heard from Hermione?" she asked. "Is she enjoying her trip?"

"Got another owl this morning; she says Paris is wonderful," Ron answered, sarcastically exaggerating 'wonderful'. "You know how she goes on about museums and stuff."

Hermione had started an internship with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures a few months before. They told her she had so impressed her superiors that she was offered a chance to travel to Paris for an international conference on Interspecies Cooperation. It seemed likely to Harry that nobody else wanted to represent the house elves, but he didn't share that with her. Her title was "Special Envoy for Elfish Promotion". It was hard for Ron and Harry to keep a straight face the day she proudly unveiled her "S.E.E.P." identification badge.

"Now, don't get all huffy Ron," George said, with a wink at Harry. "Just because you don't appreciate the finer things doesn't mean she can't."

George had obviously hoped Ron might rise to that bait, but he had already tuned out and was randomly pushing the remains of dessert around on his plate. It worried Harry that there were remains of dessert to be pushed around at all. Obviously, something was seriously bothering him. George shrugged and went back to talking to his dad about the hat.

"Well, isn't that lovely for her," Molly continued, attempting to draw Ron out of his funk. "Harry, I know Ginny can't wait for this school year to be over. She says it's incredibly boring without the rest of you around."

_Or a war to fight_, Harry thought. But what he said was, "Yeah, she says Quidditch is the only thing keeping her sane. Frankly, I like boring. Boring's fine by me."

The amount of emotion he let slip silenced everyone. He quickly averted his eyes and made a show of looking into his empty cup. Molly, taking the hint, asked if anyone wanted more tea. She dropped the pretext of cheerfulness and levitated the dessert dishes into the sink. Everyone accepted tea and turned back to their respective diversions: Arthur and George talking, Ron sulking, and Harry thinking about The Chair.

The Chair was Fred's place at the table, not used since that day. Molly still set a place there for each meal; a silent, very Weasley-like, family memorial.

Harry drifted back to those first days after the Battle. He'd spent the first week at Hogwarts, staying in the dormitory, helping with the clean up as best he could. It occurred to him, finally, that they didn't need him and he was probably just in the way, but no one would ask him to go. So, he moved into number twelve Grimmauld Place and let Kreacher take care of his daily needs. It was convenient to St. Mungo's so he could visit the wounded there, and he really had nowhere else to go. His primary contact with the outside world was Kingsley Shackelbolt.

The Ministry was a shambles, and as the new Minister of Magic, Kingsley rolled up his sleeves and started cleaning it up. Investigations were launched, people were sacked, and some were even put on trial. All the unjustly imprisoned were released, official apologies given, and reparations offered. The demand for Harry's attention was insatiable; the ministry, the press, the families of the fallen, all of them wanted his time. He felt he owed the families that much, even though it was draining. They were so 'grateful' for what he'd done, and 'honored' that, if their child had to die, they died in "The Great Battle of this Age" alongside "The Great Harry Potter". During these times, all he could think about was how he had failed to protect them. If he had been smarter or quicker, he would have arranged the final confrontation with Riddle in a deserted graveyard or forest where no one else would have gotten hurt.

Then, there were the funerals. They were the hardest part and he attended every one. They ran together in his mind, except Remus and Tonks', who were laid to rest together, and Fred's; he would never forget Fred's. The Weasley clan closed ranks during that time, clutching to each other like spars after a ship wreck. Harry didn't want to intrude. He understood they needed time together, just the family, and he really couldn't look them in the eye anyway; the guilt was too strong.

One day, about a month after Fred's funeral, Hermione suggested he meet her, Ginny, and Ron in Hogsmead to check out the new Weasley's Wizard Wheezes shop there. It was odd hearing the employees address Ron as 'Mr. Weasley' but he was George's partner now. Afterwards, they talked Harry into going back to the Burrow for a quiet cup of tea. To his surprise, the entire family was there: Molly and Arthur, George, Percy, even Bill and Fleur. It was apparently an intervention of sorts. Molly walked up to him and placed her hands on his shoulders.

"Harry," she started, "listen to me. None of what happened to our family was your fault."

"I know… but," he protested, but she plowed right over him.

"And, we owe you an apology."

"What…?"

"We didn't see... didn't think... that you might need us, after all that happened. We let you go back to that horrid house at Grimmauld Place alone."

"It's really not that bad now," he tried again, but she wouldn't be diverted.

"Lucky for us, Hermione noticed," she continued. "In our defense, we were grieving, distracted... Yes, of course, loosing Fred was a horrible, tragic, blow to us. We will never fill that hole in our hearts Harry." She paused, made him meet her eyes, and continued solemnly, "I've lost one son, I won't lose another."

She turned back to Arthur who opened his arms to her. Harry glanced around the room; Ginny looked stricken, Ron uncomfortable, but Hermione met his eyes defiantly, prepared to argue if necessary.

"Our home is your home," Arthur said over his wife's shoulder, "for a day, a week, as long as you want. We won't hear another word." He paused and looked around the room. "It's settled then," he finished with an emphatic nod.

George had misted up at the mention of Fred and, as always, sought refuge in humor."Yeah, Potter," he said, doing his best Draco Malfoy impression. "Don't make us come after you. We won't be so friendly next time."

The tension melted away and they fell into hugs and laughter. Harry was stunned, and immensely grateful. He had been so busy with funerals, meetings, and crowds of strangers that it suddenly hit him how lonely he had been.

Ginny didn't leave his side the rest of the evening and, like waking from a bad dream, they realized they could be together again. They were openly a couple from that night on and if any of the family objected, or were even surprised, Harry couldn't tell.

To this day however, months later, Harry still found himself staring at The Chair.

"Harry," Ron hissed, disturbing his reverie. "I need to talk to you." He glanced furtively at the others. "Privately."


	2. Chapter 2

**The Workshop.**

Ron yelled something to his mother about feeding the chickens and he and Harry went out the back door. The night was cool and silent. It was too early in the year for the chorus of frogs and crickets that would fill the air in a few weeks. They stepped around the usual array of old boots and rusty caldrons that littered the back steps and Ron led Harry across the yard. Harry had his hands crammed in the pockets of his jeans and-their breath formed little clouds in the cool night air. He glanced at the garden and, through the shadows, thought he saw one of the gnomes dash behind a spade that leaned against the fence. Their destination was a small shed attached to the chicken coop. The crooked door's rusty hinges squealed loudly when Ron wrenched it open.

Inside it was magically much bigger than it looked and it housed Arthur's workshop. It was pitch dark so, with a flick of his wand, Ron lit several old brass lamps that hung from nails on the walls. It was here that Arthur did his tinkering with Muggle technology, to Molly's continued distress. There was a work bench along one wall with shelves above it that held many dog-eared repair manuals and parts catalogues. Tools hung neatly from peg board hooks and various bits and bobs filled cans, jars, and other mismatched containers. The exploded remains of Hagrid's motorbike were scattered all over the shop. There were parts on the bench, in bins, and the larger ones were leaning up against the walls. Arthur had smuggled the bike in from the Tonks' bog, where Harry had crash landed the night he fled from Privet Drive, and had started the enormous job of restoring it to working order. He had meticulously tagged and cataloged each part with a description and a number. Harry glanced randomly at a few.

" Speed-O-Mometer #215."

"Ignitiation Lines #121".

The tag on one particularly mangled part said, "wonky black thing #43, might fit into wonky chrome thing #56?".

Harry smiled briefly at these, but it still hurt to remember that night. He pulled himself back to the present and wondered what this was all about, while Ron paced across the shop floor.

"Come on then, out with it," Harry finally said. "What's wrong? I've never seen you leave dessert."

"Well," Ron said, starting slowly. "I know it hasn't even been a year since... everything. And I just started at the joke shop with George and I'm still not contributing much yet. All I've done is help with the Owl Order side of things. But I think I've got a bright future there!" He perked up. "The business is booming! I guess it's true what they say, there really is no such thing as bad publicity..."

"Ron, is there a point in here somewhere?"

"Yeah, sorry, it's just…" He dropped his voice to a whisper. "I've never actually said it out loud before."

"Said what?" Harry asked, getting a bit angry now.

"Well, I think... I mean, I AM," he took a breath and blew the rest out in a rush.

"I'm-going-to-ask-Hermione-to-marry-me!"

The words "marry me" echoed against the walls of the workshop. Ron winced and glanced outside to be sure no one from the house had heard.

"Yeah," he continued, growing more confident as he talked. "I've got a job, good prospects, all that. The family's crazy about her, obviously. And I realized recently, with her career taking off and everything, we could end up going in different directions. I mean, she could decide she wanted something more than..." He waved his arm vaguely around the general area, including himself.

It was then Ron realized that Harry hadn't moved. He was frozen, staring at the spot Ron had been in when he announced his plan to propose. Ron had moved to the door to look back at the house and Harry's eyes hadn't followed.

"Well, don't just stand there, say something," Ron said sheepishly.

Harry slowly turned towards him. "My two best friends in the whole world are going to get married." He said it very calmly, like he was coming out of a trance. His smile built slowly and continued until it stretched across his face.

"My two best friends...in the whole world...are going to get married! Yes!" He shouted and pumped his fist.

Horrified, Ron leapt at him and put his hand over his mouth. "Harry!" he groaned through clenched teeth. "Why do you think I brought you out here? I don't want the whole world to know yet."

Ron checked the house again, but miraculously there was still no sign that anyone had heard them. Harry laughed uncontrollably and stumbled around the room. Ron could only make out the occasional "Brilliant" or "Amazing".

"So, I guess you think she'll say yes then?" Ron asked, gravely.

That brought Harry up short. He was facing away from Ron now. His laughing changed to strangled coughing and then subsided all together. When he turned to face Ron he had, with great difficulty, regained control. He looked at Ron solemnly; arms folded, and started pacing slowly around the shop. Ron watched him intently.

"Now that you mention it," Harry said, seriously, "Hermione's my friend too. I need to look out for her best interests."

"What do you mean 'her best interests'?" Ron asked, confused.

"Well...obviously, if she says yes, that would be amazing for you. But…," Harry stopped and looked Ron slowly up and down. "…she could do LOADS better!"

He barely got it out before he lost it completely and fell to the floor, howling.

"Oh, lovely!" Ron growled. "Biggest decision of my life...and you're laughing."

Harry could barely see Ron through the tears that were now running down his face. It seemed like ages since he'd felt like laughing and, like a dam had burst, he couldn't hold it back. His sides hurt and he was completely out of breath, but he could hear the anxiety in his friend's voice. He raised himself up onto one elbow and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Do I think she'll say yes?" Harry asked rhetorically. "Ron, you complete idiot, she's been in love with you since fifth year at least. I think you were the only one on the planet that couldn't see it."

"Really?" Ron asked, stunned.

Harry reached an arm up, they clasped wrists and Ron hauled Harry to his feet. They stood facing each other for a second until Harry threw his arms around the much taller Ron and lifted him off the ground in a crushing hug.

"Of course she'll say yes," Harry said after setting him back down. "Unless, of course, you botch it up so completely that she makes you wait another whole year just to teach you a lesson."

"Exactly!" Ron said, seizing the point. "Now you're getting it."

"Getting what?" Harry asked.

"Why you're here," Ron said, taking Harry's arm. "Besides the fact that I wanted you to be the first to know, of course, I don't want my future wife to forever remember the day her mental husband asked her to marry her and mangled it all up. I need your help, Harry!"

"What makes you think I know anymore about this than you?" Harry asked cautiously, not at all sure he wanted to get involved in this.

"Well, you've got to, don't you? Because I don't have a bloody clue," Ron said desperately. "Please, for Hermione's sake if not mine. Save her the crushing embarrassment of 'Ron Weasley left to his own devices'." He said the last part while making little quote signs with his fingers.

This made Harry laugh again. "Ok, I'll help with some of it. But it's going to be up to you to pick the time and place. And…" he looked at him significantly. "I'm not putting any words in your mouth. You're on your own there."

"But, you can...advise me, right? Make sure whatever I think up isn't awful?"

"Sure, I can advise," Harry mimicked Ron's finger quotes around the word 'advised'.

So, you've got a ring then?" Harry asked, getting down to business. He leaned back against the workbench and folded his arms.

"I thought she would want to pick it out herself," Ron answered, "after... you know... she said 'yes'. But, I don't have much money..."

"Some girls might like that," Harry said. "But not Hermione; she'll expect you to have put some thought into it, and the money won't matter."

It was then that Harry got the idea to have one more go at his currently vulnerable friend.

"And, of course, you have to ask her Dad for her hand."

"Ask her Dad for what?" Ron asked, appalled.

"You know, her hand in marriage. It's a muggle tradition. Very serious business. He might deem you unsatisfactory and that would be the end of that."

Harry had to turn away because he couldn't keep a straight face.

"See Harry," Ron said gravely. "I told you I needed your help. That would have been a disaster, forgetting something like that."

"Yep," Harry agreed, "total disaster." He seemed to have developed a cough again. When he had recovered he asked a serious question. "What IS your plan for the time and place?"

"No clue," Ron said dejectedly.

"Well," Harry said. "All I can say is, it better be better than somewhere between 'Good eggs, Mum.' and 'Pass the toast, Hermione' at the breakfast table." Harry was fully aware that that was a possibility with Ron 'left to his own devices'.

"What I'm trying to say is," Harry continued. "You have to make the moment…" he paused to get it straight in his head, "…worthy of the woman." He had never thought about it before and it surprised him.

"Moment worthy of the woman...," Ron repeated in a whisper. "Blimey."

They talked a while longer and decided to head back to the house. Ron, relieved to have shared his plans with someone, decided he might like some dessert now after all.

"So then," Ron said as they trudged across the lawn with their hands in their pockets again, "first thing we need to do is go talk to Mr. Granger."

"We?" Harry asked.

"Well," Ron replied. "I'll do all the talking but you'll come with me won't you?"

"Sure," Harry said with a sigh. "But remember, you're doing all the talking."

Molly asked Harry what he was grinning about when they made it back inside. Harry stammered something about being happy to see the motorbike coming back to life. She gave him an 'I think you're up to something' look, but let it drop. Harry thought she seemed relieved just to see him smiling again.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Grangers.**

The weather was beautiful again on the following Saturday morning. Ron, standing in the street with Harry, looked nervously at the outside of the Granger's home. It was a nice older cottage with rock masonry and a red tile roof nestled in a pleasant neighborhood. The lawn was meticulously groomed and rimed with pretty flower beds. A winding flagstone walkway led up to the front door.

"Go on then," Harry said, prodding him. "You've been staring at the door for twenty minutes. You might as well get it over with."

"Are you sure I have to do this?" he pleaded. "Maybe I could just write a letter or something."

"Right, and send it by owl I suppose?" Harry said. "I'm sure the Grangers would love that."

"Oh all right," Ron groaned as he started up the walk.. "I'm ready as I'll ever be. Let's go."

When they reached the door Harry stood back a bit and let Ron ring the bell. After a few seconds, it was answered by Mrs. Granger. She looked at Ron and then Harry, blinked, and looked back at Ron. The color seemed to drain from her face and her hand flew to her mouth. Harry didn't know what kind of reaction he had expected, but abject terror wasn't it. Ron looked at Harry, his face showed the same confusion that Harry felt.

"Ronald...," she exclaimed, her voice shaking. "Is something wrong? Has something happened to Hermione? I just talked to her on the phone last night. She seemed fine. I don't understand..."

Ron, already nervous, didn't catch on right away so Harry jumped in.

"No, no, Mrs. Granger," he said, reaching out to her. "Hermione's fine. At least, last we heard she was..."

"Last you heard?" she interrupted accusingly. "What does that mean? Is she missing? She told me it was over, no more fighting..."

Harry cringed. Things were going from bad to worse, but Ron had caught up by this time and moved closer to the near hysterical woman.

"She's fine," he said, his voice firm and calm. "The war is over. There is no more fighting. All Harry meant was, we haven't actually talked to her ourselves, but we have no reason to think that anything is wrong." He stressed 'anything'.

She took a breath, visibly relaxed, and her color started to return. "Oh, I see," she said quietly. "Then, what are you doing here, Ronald?" she asked. "I'm sorry, but I still don't understand."

Ron took a deep breath and glanced at Harry again before answering. "Well, I was wondering if I might have a word with Mr. Granger? A private word?"

Just then they heard the back door slam and a man's voice called out, "Was that the door bell, Dear? Is someone here?" Mr. Granger appeared then, wiping his hands on a rag, dressed in muddy gardening clothes.

"It's Ronald Weasley," she said, still obviously confused but much recovered from the earlier misunderstanding. "He says he wants to have a word with you."

"Ron Weasley? A word with me? How extraordinary!" he said, smiling at Ron. "What are you doing out there? Haven't you invited him in, Dear?"

"Oh my!" she gasped. "I'm sorry, please come in." She backed into the house and held the door for them as Harry and Ron entered the foyer. There was a coat rack on the wall with a built in umbrella stand and a small bench for removing wet boots.

"And you must be…?" Mr. Granger asked, looking at Harry, staring at his scar.

"You must be Harry Potter," she said quietly

"Right," Ron said quickly. "This is Harry Potter, our...good friend." He stumbled over just how to introduce Harry since, in the Wizarding world, it had never been necessary. "Mine and Hermione's good friend, that is."

It was obvious that the Grangers didn't need any further explanation. "How extraordinary," Mr. Granger said, for the second time, and extended his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Potter. Ah… sorry about the dirt, been working in the garden."

"No problem. The pleasure's mine," Harry replied shaking his hand.

"So," Mr. Granger said, looking at Ron again. "You want to have a word with me?"

"Yes sir," Ron replied gravely. He glanced at Harry who gave him a little wink.

"Well, I'm in the middle of some planting out back; that time of year, you know. You could follow me out there; it'd be private enough I think." Then he turned to Mrs. Granger and said, "Why don't you make us some tea, Dear? Ron and I will be along shortly."

"Certainly," she said, still looking at Harry.

"Well, all right then, come along Ron, my begonias aren't going to plant themselves. Ron followed him through the house and out the back door.

"So," Mrs. Granger said coolly, turning back to Harry. "Because of you, I went to bed one night and woke up a year later on a sheep ranch outside Sydney?"

"Err…I guess so…" Harry stammered.

"Right then," she said, as she turned smartly on her heel. "The kitchen is this way."

It had not occurred to Harry when he agreed to come along that he would be spending time alone with Hermione's angry mother. He looked around as he followed her down the hall. The inside of the house was as spotless and organized as the outside. The furnishings were nice but not fancy. There was a pleasant sitting room with a couple of overstuffed chairs, an office with a desk and shelves, all packed with books of course. The phrase 'neat as a pin' came to mind and Harry contrasted it to the Burrow's usual state of barely controlled chaos. He wondered just what kind of home his two friends would end up making.

While Mrs. Granger continued into the kitchen, Harry stopped along the hall to look at several photographs that hung there of Hermione at various ages. First were baby pictures; a pudgy, curly haired cherub of an infant. Next, Hermione as a toddler on Christmas morning, surrounded by a sea of toys and dolls, beaming triumphantly at the camera while fiercely clutching a large picture book of Dinosaurs. But the one that really caught his eye was taken on platform nine and three quarters as she was about to set off for her first year at Hogwarts. She was standing with her mother. Hermione had that determined, haughty, look that he remembered, while her mother's smile was strained, worry clearly visible around her eyes. He unconsciously reached up to touch the frame...

"I was terrified, you know," Mrs. Granger said. She had silently returned and startled Harry so much he jumped back, almost knocking over a lamp on the other side of the hall. "That first day we let her go," she continued, apparently not noticing Harry's clumsiness. "We put her on that strange train, with all those strange people. We knew it was best for her, of course, the Ministry people had explained everything. But still, our little girl, going away until Christmas, surrounded by..." her voice trailed off. Harry knew she caught herself before saying something she thought might offend him.

"Looking back," Harry said. "It's hard to believe we were ever that young." He looked at Mrs. Granger who was still staring at the photo. "You know," he went on, trying to be comforting, "she can take care of herself, that Hermione. Always could."

"The kitchen is through here," she said distantly, and turned on her heel and headed back down the hall. This time Harry followed.

The kitchen was bright and cheery with flowered wall paper and white lace curtains. A small eating area with a table and chairs adjoined it in the back and the lace-curtained windows looked out on the garden. The only sound was the ticking made by the kettle as the water began to heat.

"I'm quite sure our Hermione can take of herself," she said proudly, looking out the window. "What I never understood was why she should have to." She turned and looked at Harry as he sat down at the table. "The worst row I ever had with my daughter was about you dragging her into these dangerous situations."

"We have that in common at least," Harry said, not breaking eye contact. "Neither of us could change her mind once she set it. I tried to convince them to let me go alone. Lucky for me, I failed miserably. There's no way I could have done it without them."

"Really," she said, and sat across the table from him. "She never told me that. I just assumed you wanted…an entourage." The look she gave him was so Hermione-like he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

"Your daughter is a lot of things, but 'groupie' isn't one of them," he said with a chuckle. She shrugged agreement and smiled at the absurdity of the idea.

"Really," he continued. "I've never met anyone like her. She always knows, instinctively, what the 'right' thing to do is. That's a lot harder than it sounds. It might have been my journey, but she was the compass."

She smiled at him then, sincerely, and looked over Harry's shoulder into the yard. Harry turned and saw Mr. Granger holding one of Ron's hands in both of his and vigorously pumping it up and down. Ron looked very relieved, and was nodding his head to whatever Mr. Granger was saying, then he started dragging Ron back toward the house.

"So?" she asked Harry, nodding in their direction. "What's all this about then?" Harry just smiled as Mr. Granger, with a dazed Ron in tow, burst into the kitchen.

"Ron wants to marry our Hermione!" Mr. Granger blurted out, smiling hugely.

"What!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed as she jumped up, sending her chair flying.

"He's just asked if it would be alright if he asked Hermione to marry him!"

"And what did you say?" she asked behind the hand that had flown up to her mouth.

"Say?" He asked, confused. "I said that it was her decision, of course, but we would be thrilled!"

"Of course we would!" Her eyes welled up as she ran around the table and hugged them both in turns. Harry started to feel he should leave them alone when they were interrupted by the whistle of the kettle.

They talked for a while over tea. The Grangers were delighted, and quite surprised, that they were the first in either family to hear about Ron's plans. Harry could tell that, maybe for the first time, they felt truly included in the world their daughter spent half her life in.

Later, when they were standing in the foyer about to leave, Mrs. Granger abruptly stopped as if something had just occurred to her. "Ron, have you picked out a ring yet?" she asked.

"Still trying to work that out, actually," Ron said, obviously not relishing the thought of that task.

"Wait right here," she said and dashed back into the house.

When she returned she was carrying a small black velvet ring box. She held it out to him and it seemed she might start crying again. "It was my grandmother's," she said. "I was already married when it was passed down to me. Hermione always loved it. I used to catch her wearing it around the house when she was little." She laughed at the memory. "Not much for playing dress-up, that girl, but that ring... I had to hide it eventually. I was sure she'd wear it out into the yard and lose it."

Ron opened the box and looked at a delicate gold ring with three small diamonds set in a line. All he could do was hug her again.

"I'm sure it's perfect...," Ron finally managed to say.

"Perfect," Harry agreed.

"What did you mean before?" Ron asked Harry as they walked away from the house. "Make the moment worthy of the woman? You think there needs to be a proclamation from the Ministry or something?"

"No Ron," Harry lectured, exasperated. "That's not it at all. It's doesn't have to be some big deal. In fact, it shouldn't be too over the top, she'll see right through some phony set-up like that. No fireworks, marching bands, or clowns. Just make it significant for her, something tasteful and subtle. You know, show some class."

"Right, tasteful, show some class… got it," Ron nodded. "No fireworks or marching bands..."


	4. Chapter 4

**Souvenirs.**

"I'm supposed to be George's partner aren't I?" Ron asked indignantly. "Is this any way to treat a partner? He's kept me in the dark like everyone else."

They had all just sat down to dinner and Molly was levitating heaping bowls of chicken, potatoes, and vegetables onto the table. It was a welcome-home party for Hermione, she had returned from Paris a few days earlier. As a Weasley dinner party went, it was a small group: just the elder Weasleys plus Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Hermione. Ginny had come home from Hogwarts for the weekend just for the occasion. The rest of the clan had begged off for various reasons. Percy and Bill were both very busy with the upcoming one-year anniversary of the 'Battle of Hogwarts' Memorial ceremonies. Percy was coordinating all the Ministry arrangements; Bill was handling financial issues involving large charitable contributions for the improvements at Hogwarts and the 'top secret' Monument there. George, also, had been extremely busy working on a secret commission for the Ministry, so secret in fact that he wouldn't tell Ron anything about it.

"Now Ron," Arthur said. "I'm sure your brother has his reasons. Even at the Ministry, where no one can keep a secret, there hasn't been a single word leaked about that Monument."

"That's not entirely true, is it Arthur?" Molly asked knowingly, glancing in Harry's direction. "What were you telling me you heard yesterday?"

"Well," Arthur squirmed as he avoided Harry's eyes. "It's being said... Harry had a hand in the design. But...'' he hastily added, "you know how it's been, according to the papers Harry's had a hand in just about everything lately. I'm sure it's all hogwash."

"Yeah," Ron laughed. "According to the Prophet, Harry's fathered half the babies born in Britain this year." Everyone laughed but Ginny, who shot Ron a look and then one at Harry for laughing.

"Well Harry," Hermione asked, still chuckling. "Did you?" She looked mischievously at Ginny. "Help design the Monument, I mean." They burst out laughing again, even Ginny joined in this time.

"Not really," Harry said. "They did ask my opinion about it. I told them what I thought, but I have no idea what they actually came up with. I'll be just as surprised as everybody else."

The table went very quiet when Harry dropped that bomb and they all stared at him. "What did you tell them you thought about it, Harry?" Molly asked quietly.

"All I said was I absolutely did not want my name on it, and it shouldn't mention Voldemort or Death Eaters either. The last thing we should do is give Tom Ridexactly what he wanted, immortality, by putting his name on a permanent monument at Hogwarts." He paused, reluctant to be the wet blanket at Hermione's party. "It should be about everyone who fought, and especially the ones that died."

Everyone stared at him until Arthur cleared his throat and asked Ron to pass the chicken. Harry thought he caught a gleam in Molly's eye as she turned quickly back to the sink. Ginny reached under the table and squeezed his hand and briefly placed her head on his shoulder. Harry looked apologetically at Hermione and tried to convey that he was sorry for killing the mood, but as she stared back at him he did not see annoyance on her face, or even sadness; what he thought he saw was pride.

The atmosphere improved over dinner as Hermione told funny stories about her dealings with the French and passionately described the roll the British delegation was playing in the fight for House Elf rights on the continent.

"How are your parents, dear?" Molly asked her.

"They seem fine...a little odd, but fine."

"Odd?"

"I'm sure it's nothing. I'm probably imagining it. I've been watching them very closely since I used that memory charm. I want to be sure there are no lasting effects. They seem a little distracted since I got back, but cheerful enough." Harry and Ron exchanged brief knowing glances.

After dinner they retired to the sitting room and Hermione ran up to Ginny's bedroom to retrieve an arm load of gifts she had brought back for everyone.

She started by handing Arthur a muggle souvenir of the Eiffel Tower. It had a clock in its belly and a cigarette lighter in the top. "Fascinating!" He proclaimed, and immediately set the sleeve of his robes on fire.

She gave Molly a coffee table book of magical photographs of Paris that not only moved, but also had street sounds. You could hear honking horns, barking dogs, and one even had a waiter at a sidewalk cafe being rude to a tourist. "Oh, it's wonderful dear. Arthur," she asked sternly, after hugging Hermione. "When was the last time we went on Holiday?"

"Don't know," he answered distractedly. The fire was out now and he was trying to figure out how to set the time on the clock. "Must have been before Charlie was born... Oh look, it has a tiny Battery!"

"Well," Molly continued, ignoring his comment about the clock. "We're almost empty nesters you know, maybe we should start planning one." Ron inhaled some butterbeer and started coughing.

Ginny got an autographed poster of the French all-Witch Quidditch team the 'Saint-Brieuc Sirens'. "The Sirens!" she exclaimed. "How did you get an autographed one?" She unrolled it and held it up so they all could admire it. Harry had to concentrate on looking at Ginny and not the lovely French athletes smiling and waving from the poster.

"During dinner one evening it came out that one of the French delegation was dating their Keeper. So, I asked, and he got it for me."

Ron looked gloomily at the floor, his mind's eye showing him the group of delegates, including Hermione, lauhing and talking at dinner.

"But ..." Ginny said, looking at Hermione out of the corner of her eye.

"I know," She interrupted and recited, having heard it a hundred times, "The Harpies are the Best."

"Absolutely!" She agreed. "But I'll put this on my wall right next to Gwenog's." Then she too hugged Hermione.

Hermione handed Harry a normal looking, accordion folded, muggle street map of Paris. Harry took it, turned it over, and examined some of the inside pages. "Uh… thanks Hermione... this is ... great," he said flatly. "Watch," she said, rolling her eyes as she pulled out her wand, tapped the map, and said "Revealo". The map started to shift and change. Soon it was an entirely different map of Paris. The streets were largely the same but the shops and buildings now showed little animated pictures of sites and attractions of the Wizarding world. When Harry touched one of the sites with his wand it expanded and told him all about it.

"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed, and snatched the map back. "Thanks, Hermione."

"Now, for you," Hermione said, giving Ron a devious smirk. She pulled a shocking yellow T-Shirt from a bag with a flourish. "I saw this and just knew it was 'you'." Written on the front of the shirt in large black letters surrounding a red heart it said;

"I ( Heart) the Louvre!"

Everyone laughed except Ron, and Harry who was still engrossed in his talking map.

"Very funny," Ron said sarcastically, as he took the shirt from her and held it in front of him. "Not bloody likely I'll wear this!"

"You don't have to take it then..." she said, as she grabbed it back. "I'll just keep it."

"Fine," he said, petulantly. "But it's way too big for you."

He mumbled something about more butterbeer and walked into the kitchen. Hermione looked as though she might follow but stopped, the look on her face a combination of hurt and annoyance.

"It was just a joke, Ronald," she called loudly after him, annoyance obviously winning out.

"What is his problem?" she barked, rounding on Harry.

"What?" Harry asked, as his head snapped up from the map, not sure what just happened.

"He's been sulking ever since I started work at the Ministry," she went on, getting angrier. "I do important work! And the Ministry values my contribution. If he thinks I'm going to sit around the house and… pine away for him while he goes off to work with George he's...well, he's... "

"I don't think he thinks that..." Harry said, just trying to calm her down.

"Oh?" she pounced. "You know what he thinks? Please, enlighten me."

"Uh, I don't..." Harry stammered, he wondered how he ever got into this. "But I don't think he wants you to... pine?"

"Well, he better figure out what he does want then." She folded her arms across her chest and dropped back into her chair.

When Ron didn't return from the kitchen they all went back to talking about their presents, but Hermione's heart wasn't in it. She gave Molly some things to give to the rest of the family and said, "It's getting late. I should be heading home."

"I'm sure Fleur will love the coffee, dear." Molly said. "She still gets a little home sick, I think. You will come to the Memorial with us next week, won't you?"

"Of course, thank you," Hermione said tiredly. "My parents have declined the invitation, but they seemed very pleased to have been included. In fact, like I said before, they seem to be in a wonderful mood since I got back." She glanced back towards the kitchen. "Maybe Ron will be out of his funk by then."

"I'm sure the two of you will work it out." Molly said, patting her arm.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Memorial.**

Harry arrived at the Weasleys' on the day of the ceremony about mid afternoon. Hermione was already there. On the plus side, she and Ron seemed to be talking again; on the other hand, they looked tense and were uncharacteristically staying at arms length.

The port key they were to use that day was an old wicker basket with a broken handle. They gathered around it in the backyard. Arthur counted to three. Harry felt the now familiar rushing through space, his hand glued to the key, as they were whisked to Hogwarts.

They landed in the meadow between the Quidditch pitch and the castle. There was already a good-sized crowd gathered. Booths and stalls were erected around the meadow selling food, drink, and various amusements. Younger children were running around, laughing, flying magical kites shaped like dragons and hippogriffs, while the adults strolled around the grounds talking quietly.

Harry could see Dumbledore's Tomb, large and imposing, gleaming in the sun. It had been repaired after Voldemort's desecration, of course, and looked like new. There was a new, wide stone walk that wound from the castle to the Tomb and then continued on along the lake where it came to an even larger edifice that was now draped in black velvet. The path completely encircled the new Monument, so a visitor could walk past the Tomb, down to and around the Monument, and return to the castle the same way. A stage had been set near the Monument that faced away from the lake, towards the meadow. Grand stands had been built beside the stage to hold the Ministry officials and others who were expected to speak at the ceremony.

Harry remembered from his official invitation that this event was not open to the general public. There would be no way for Hogwarts to accommodate a crowd that size. The invitees included all current Hogwarts students and their families, prospective students and their parents, who were encouraged to see for themselves that Hogwarts was whole and secure again and, finally, anyone who was in school the year of the battle or participated in it. This last group included the surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix, many alumni, the Centaurs, house elves, and most of the population of Hogsmead.

"Great! You're here," George exclaimed when they appeared. He and Ginny had been waiting for them. "Ron, come and see the booth." He grabbed his brother's arm and dragged him to the edge of the meadow where they could see the stall and it's huge "WWW" logo. The elder Weasleys spotted some Ministry people and wandered off in that direction while Hermione, Harry, and Ginny followed Ron.

The joke shop's booth was one of the larger ones, and a crowd of mostly adolescent boys had already surrounded it. As they drew closer they glimpsed through the throng what the actual attraction was. There were two extremely attractive young ladies staffing the booth, chatting charmingly with the boys, giggling and batting their eyelashes. Harry immediately recognized them as Fleur's Veela cousins. Fred and George had spent a good deal of time with them at Bill and Fleur's wedding. Harry and Ron stared slack-jawed until they were elbowed in the ribs by their respective girlfriends.

"Amazing..." Ron said. Hermione groaned at him. "I mean..." he implored, trying to recover. "The idea... to use the girls to draw in the crowds." But, by the time he'd finished she was already shaking her head and walking away.

"Genius," Harry added. Ginny gave him a withering look and ran off to catch up with Hermione.

"Thanks," George said with pride, ignoring the girl's reaction. As they watched, groups of young boys walked away with arm loads of trick sweets and fireworks assortments. "Fred was the creative one when it came to new product design" George continued. "But my strength has always been marketing. And," he added in a conspiratorial whisper as he leaned close to Ron's ear. "You haven't seen anything yet." He straightened up and glanced back towards a crowd of Ministry types that were milling around outside the castle. "Got to go! Things to do. I'll catch you up after the speeches," and he hurried away.

Ron pulled his eyes from the Veelas and watched George's back retreating through the crowd. "Still not including me, is he?" he asked. Harry just shrugged.

"Oh?" Hermione asked, casually, as the boys caught up to them. "Tore yourself away did you? Thought it might be alright to be seen with two hags like us after all?"

"Just temporarily," Harry said, looking at Ginny out of the corner of his eye. "They're busy for the rest of the afternoon, but we're meeting them later…- whoa!" He didn't get to finish because Ginny took a swing at the back of his head, which he anticipated. He ducked and ran for it.

"Potter!" she yelled, laughing as she gave chase. "I'm gunna kick your..."

Ron and Hermione, the tension momentarily forgotten, had laughed and clasped hands out of habit. They realized it at the same time. Hermione made to let go, but Ron held tight and turned to look at her.

"Look," he said. "I know I've been a git. I'm sorry."

"Yes, you have." she said, annoyed, but she didn't pull her hand away. "Is it something about my job? My trip to Paris? Because, I don't intend to stop..."

"No! It's nothing like that." he interrupted. "I've just had a ton of stuff on my mind, and it's made me kind of crazy. I never meant to take it out on you. Your job…it's exactly what you should be doing. I'm proud of you."

"Proud of me?" she said quietly. "Ron, you've never said you were proud of me before."

"Yeah, well," Ron said quietly as he shuffled his feet and avoided looking directly at her."I thought you knew."

"No," she said, and her tone changed from surprised to something else entirely. "How was I to know?" She put her arms around his neck and forced their eyes to meet. "I do know that all the while I was in Paris... " she rose slowly on her toes, "all I could think about was how much more fun it would have been if you were there." Ron tilted his head down, and just as their lips met-

"Attention please, everyone!" Professor McGonagall's magically amplified voice boomed across the lawn.

Hermione dropped back onto her feet, sighed, and rested her head on Ron's chest.

"We are about to start the dedication," McGonagall continued, sounding stressed. She repeatedly cast nervous glances in the direction of the grand stands as the VIPs started to take their seats. "Would you all kindly move towards the stage? Thank you… that's the way. We will begin in a few minutes."

"We'll finish this later," Hermione said, smiling up at him. They linked arms, turned toward the stage, and almost walked right into Ginny and Harry who stood watching them gravely. .

"I guess we won't have to lock them in a broom cupboard after all," Harry said to Ginny, as they turned and headed towards the stage. "We'll see," Ginny said, glancing briefly over her shoulder at them. "I'm not completely convinced. It was only half a snog, after all."

Hermione giggled, Ron blushed.

They found the Weasley family stretched out on a huge, crazily quilted blanket not far from the stage. Other groups had done something similar, though most had more dignified lawn coverings. Harry saw oriental rugs, folding chairs, even a complete sitting room with stuffed chairs, ottomans, and coffee tables. The sun had started to set and magic glowing orbs began to appear, scattered around the field floating slightly above head heighth. The stage, the tomb, and the Monument draped in black, all seemed to be lit from above, though there was no visible light source.

The speeches started with Professor McGonagall welcoming everyone and thanking the Board for their support, without which, she assured everyone, Hogwarts would not have been able to reopen at all. She thanked all those who worked tirelessly to repair the castle and the grounds and the current student body and staff for forging ahead in the midst of the construction. She particularly thanked those who worked on the renovation of Dumbledore's Tomb and the new Monument, which led her to introduce the head of the Monument Committee.

Harry's mind wandered. It was the first time he had been back since the week after the battle. He thought how different it had been that night, the darkness and violence, and how nice it was now, a pretty spring sunset. He thought about how nice Ginny's hair felt against his cheek and how good it smelled, when applause roused Harry back to the moment. Kingsley had been introduced.

"Thank you all for coming." he began. "I know how difficult it is for many of us to remember that day, one year ago. The wounds have not entirely healed; the pain is still too acute for many. But we would like you to try. And from this day forward, each year on this date, remember this day not only as a time to honor those we lost, but to celebrate that which was won. Our freedom from tyranny, hatred, and fear."

"To that end we would like you to stay as long as you like after the unveiling. There will be food, entertainment, and, most of all, plenty of time to enjoy each others' company. Also, I would like to announce that this monument has a twin that will reside in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic where anyone can come and pay their respects. Now, without further delay," He waved his wand and the black velvet drape rose slowly up. As it cleared the Monument the drape swirled and transformed into smoke that silently drifted away on the breeze.

The Monument was made of the same glowing white marble as Dumbledore's Tomb. It was a wall about two stories tall and several paces thick. It stood on a black marble pedestal base. The words "Battle of Hogwarts" were clearly visible from the vantage point of the crowd. Below that the date could also be seen, as well as smaller print that was not legible from this distance.

There were respectful 'oohs' and 'ahs' and scattered polite applause. It seemed the crowd couldn't decide what the appropriate response should be at such a solemn occasion. Kingsley led the Ministry group in a slow walk down the path towards the Monument. They were followed by the rest of the visiting dignitaries from the grand stand. The gathered crowd then formed a slow procession behind them, talking quietly as they shuffled into line. The Hogwarts band, seated in a grandstand of its own, started playing a soft arrangement of school songs and classical pieces to set the mood for the viewing.

Everyone on the Weasley blanket rose ... everyone but Harry, who remained reclined on the blanket.

"I think I'll wait till the crowd dies down a bit," he said. "You guys go ahead, I'll wait here." In response to Molly's stern look, he said, "Really. I'm fine. Go on." They hesitated, but then moved off slowly and joined the queue. Harry settled back down on the blanket to stare at the white marble wall in the distance, glistening from the setting sunlight.

"Harry!" a familiar voice called from behind. Harry turned to find Neville approaching the blanket.

"Neville!" Harry said, genuinely pleased, as he jumped up and hugged him. "Looks like they've got everything all fixed up, eh?"

"Yeah, I know they've been working non-stop for months. Not going up?" Neville asked, nodding in the direction of the line.

"I'll go later... when it's quiet."

Neville looked at him the way all his friends did these days, a mixture of concern and understanding.

"Considering you're alone, I thought I'd pop over and thank you for looking in on my parents."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Harry," Neville interrupted. "You brought them flowers. Gran saw them. She's like a terrier you know. She badgered the nurses until they caved and told her who brought them. Poor things, the nurses, they never had a chance really."

That made Harry smile, and Neville smiled back.

"I don't think they understood anything I told them, but I had to try," Harry said.

"Tell them?"

"That it was over," Harry said. "Once and for all- Voldemort, the Death Eaters- all gone. That no one will hurt them again. And," he added, smiling up at Neville, "that you were brilliant, of course. Couldn't have done it without you."

Neville looked embarrassed. "Thanks, Harry, but it wasn't that much."

"Wasn't much?" Harry jumped in. "Neville, it was huge! If you hadn't killed that snake he'd still be out there, like the first time, looking for a chance to come back."

"Well, I think any of the DA could have done it," Neville said. "But anyway," he said quickly, to head off another of Harry's protests. "The doctors say they seem to be resting easier since your visits. They'll never get better, of course, but I caught Mum holding Dad's hand last time I was there. She hasn't done that since..."

He didn't need to finish. He glanced back towards the Monument and let out a long sigh. "I guess I'll take my turn then. See you, Harry."

"See you, Neville."

As Harry sat back down the first of the viewers began returning to their places. The conversation was hushed and respectful at first, but as more people returned to the meadow it began to grow louder. The children played and laughed, oblivious to the seriousness of the occasion. The adults started conversing in normal tones again and the band started to pick up the tempo. Slowly, the mood lightened.

When the Weasleys returned there were a few moist eyes in the group but it seemed they had gotten their emotions under control on the way back.

"It's beautiful Harry," Hermione said with a sniff, as she sat down next to him. "They got it just right." There were nods of agreement from the others.

"I guess I should go," Harry said, as the lack of a crowd around the Monument eliminated his excuse. He stood, stretched, and started off towards the path. Ginny quickly jumped up and grabbed his arm.

"You've already been," he said. "There's no need to go again." She gave him a determined look and entwined her fingers with his. Obviously, wherever he was going, she was going too. Ginny exchanged a brief knowing glance with Hermione as she and Harry turned and started off toward the path leading to the Monument.

Ron and Hermione watched them walk away. They had sat down and she leaned back against him. He draped a protective arm around her. "She's so good for him," she said softly. "I don't worry as much when they're together."

"He does tend to get a bit moody otherwise," Ron agreed.

"Look who's talking," she said with a laugh. Ron winced.

"Yeah, so," he whispered, "how about a walk down by the lake?"

"THERE'S the one-track mind I've missed," she replied, a smile in her tone. "I bet it's lovely down by the lake."

They rose and headed off in that direction.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Lake. Pt. 1**

Harry and Ginny followed the path as it wound towards Dumbledore's tomb. They paused there and Harry was surprised at how peaceful he felt. He guessed it was because, in his mind, he had talked with him since his death and worked everything out. Hundreds of wreaths and flowers piled against the tomb by the crowd had spilled onto the path like a multi-colored landslide. They exchanged a brief glance and moved silently on.

As they approached the Monument Harry slowed, then stopped, several paces from it. Ginny said nothing as she waited with him; her only response was to squeeze his hand once and let go. After a deep breath, Harry moved to the front of the massive white wall and Ginny walked beside him. Here, also, heaps of flowers and wreaths had been laid along its entire length.

From the meadow where he and the Weasleys had been sitting he had seen the title and date chiseled along the top, but that hadn't prepared him for the site up close. The letters were enormous. Below them he could now read the smaller inscription:

_On this date, on the grounds of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, beings from all aspects of our society came together and fought for freedom and tolerance. This monument signifies our recognition of all who risked their lives that day, and for those listed below who made the ultimate sacrifice, our eternal gratitude._

Below the inscription were five columns of names listed in alphabetical order. Harry started at the top and slowly read through them all. As he read he moved closer to the wall and slowly walked down its length, stopping now and again to reach out and touch one of the names. Eventually he came to Remus and Tonks, listed together in the "L" group which, for Tonks, caught him by surprise. He traced their names with his fingers before moving on. It was getting harder to see; he had to keep wiping his eyes on his sleeve. Almost at the end, he came to Fred's name. He stopped, rested his hand on it and closed his eyes.

Harry's mind drifted back to Kings Cross station. Not the real one, but the pristine, glowing white one he had visited when he thought he had died. Now, however, rather than just he and Dumbledore, there was quite a crowd there. He started to recognize faces, many from the list on the Monument. In addition to them he could make out his parents standing with Remus and Tonks, laughing at something Sirius had said. Off on the edge of the crowd he spotted Dumbledore, his hand on Snape's shoulder, the two talking quietly together and Dumbledore nodding solemnly. Harry knew this was all his imagination. Nothing magical was going on. If he opened his eyes he was sure it would be just he and Ginny, standing in the dark by the monument, but he let his mind linger there, beyond the present. He remembered how good it had felt there; no pain, no fear. They all looked happy and content and it comforted him. Then a loud 'whooping' caused everyone to turn, look behind them, and duck. A laughing Fred came flying overhead on his broom and, with a flick of his wand, sent a bright streak shooting up into the vague upper reaches of the domed ceiling. Harry watched as it divided and blossomed into several huge, dazzling ..........

* * *

Ron and Hermione had finally broken free of the crowds and were walking along the edge of the lake. They paused and looked back. They had gone far enough around that they could see the white glowing monuments, and the beautifully lit Castle, reflected in the lake's glassy surface; undisturbed by the Giant Squid's lazy ripple, or even the Merpeople who had long since returned to its dark depths after having watched the ceremony from the lake's edge. It was almost totally dark now and the stars twinkled in the night sky and again in the surface of the lake. The stars, along with the Castle, provided the only light to see the path.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Hermione asked, looking across the lake. "Beautiful." Ron agreed, but he wasn't looking at the view. Hermione sensed the difference and turned around to face him.

"So," she said, stepping closer and putting her arms around his neck. "Where were we?" This time there was no interruption and the kiss endured. Eventually, they both needed to breathe and Ron gently set her down.

"That!" she said emphatically. "Is how you tell a girl you missed her."

"Hindsight's twenty-twenty," he replied, panting. "I told you I was sorry... next time I'll know what to do."

"I'm going to hold you to that." she said with a laugh, and playfully jabbed him in the ribs. She grabbed one of his hands in each of hers and spun in place, crossing her arms in front of her and wrapping his arms around her. She leaned her head back against his chest and sighed.

"It truly is beautiful, you know." she said dreamily. "I feared we'd never see the grounds like this again. Now, I've never seen anything like it. It's.....perfect."

"Perfect," Ron agreed.

"The whole night is perfect," she went on, trance like. "The Memorial... Harry and Ginny... you and I... that kiss..."

The realization hit Ron like the Hogwarts Express. It WAS perfect. The Perfect Night, the Perfect Moment! All his doubt and uncertainty vanished.

"Uh… Hermione, I need to ask you something."

"What's that, Ron?' she asked vaguely, still basking in the glow and mentally tracing the mirrored outline of the Castle in the lake.

"Well, I was wondering… if you might..."

"Yes?"

"….do me the honor of… well… marrying me?" he said quietly, not wanting to break the spell.

"Marry you?" she whispered. "Sure Ron. I'll… wait!" She jerked like she'd been hit with a bucket of cold water.

"What did you just say?" she yelled, as she spun out of his arms.

"I asked you if you would marry me, and you said 'Sure Ron.'" He grinned. "Can't back out now… we have a deal."

"Ronald!" she shouted and hit him in the shoulder. "This is serious."

"Serious as Spattergroit," he said, his grin spreading.

"Oh... Ron," she said sadly. She gave him a pitying look and a quick kiss. "It's very sweet. But I can't hold you to this."

"What d'ya mean?" he asked, sounding offended.

"I mean," she said, taking a deep breath. "You need to give this a lot of thought. It's a life changing thing. I know it's a lovely night, but you can't just let yourself get carried away and.... blurt something like this out."

Ron had stopped grinning. He stepped up to her, placed a hand on each of her shoulders, and stared into her eyes. "Hermione Granger," he said sternly. "You listen. I've done nothing but think about it for weeks. I've been trying to find the right time, and here it is, a 'perfect moment'. Harry said I should pick a moment worthy of the woman."

Hermione didn't like to be confused. In fact, she spent a great deal of time studying and preparing so she would never be confused. Now? She was confused. Part of her stared back at Ron and noticed how strong he sounded, reminding her of when he had taken charge during the Horcrux hunt. Another part thought, "Could this really be happening?" and, also, "I'm losing feeling in my extremities..." A final part, the one that had control of her voice asked, "Worthy of a... 'perfect moment'?"

"Yeah," Ron said, as he started pacing back and forth. "It's not quite good enough, nothing ever will be. But, it WAS perfect wasn't it? The moment? That kiss?"

"It was a wonderful kiss..." the vocal portion of her mind said breathlessly. She could focus on that kiss; it wasn't that long ago, only an age or so.

"Right," he said, as he continued pacing, like a lawyer arguing his case. "I've been racking my brain to find a moment like that. And there it was. So I went for it! Of course, I asked your Dad for your hand first, a few weeks ago when you were away. Harry told me how important it was with muggle families."

She thought she heard him say he had asked her Dad for her hand. She must be hallucinating now. That was the only plausible explanation. The vocal part of her mind managed to say, "no... Ron, you didn't… really?"

"Oh yeah", he said matter-of-factly. "We went 'round there, Harry and I. He was moral support."

"And... how did that go then?" the vocal part asked, just making polite conversation now, stalling for time. She started going over the events of the past few weeks. Things had been strange since she returned from Paris.

"A bit touch and go to start," he confided. "First, we had to convince your Mum you weren't dead."

"Understandable," she said vaguely. "Not actually starting off on the right foot...."

"No" he conceded. "But she recovered quite well, your Mum. And while she and Harry had tea I had a very nice chat with your Dad out in the garden. He was planting Begonias. He thinks it's a great idea! 'Us' I mean. Of course, he said the final say was up to you, obviously."

"Obviously," she repeated mechanically. "Begonias? Harry...? And my Mother...? Had tea?" Somehow, of all the impossible things, that was the hardest to imagine. "In our kitchen?"

"I guess," Ron answered slowly, as he realized then how strangely she was acting.

Hermione methodically reviewed the facts. Ron had acted strangely since she returned, and he had told her he had a lot on his mind. Her father had avoided being alone with her. She had been too busy to press it, but he never could keep a secret from his daughter. And her mother! Several times since Paris she had happened on her mother and caught her humming. Humming! Her mother was not a humming person; far too frivolous an activity. She had thought it odd but passed it off. Thinking back now, she tried to remember the tune. As the memory came to her, the fog finally lifted. It had been "Here Comes the Bride". The last piece fell into place. It was all true. Harry had had tea with her mother. And Ron really was, seriously, asking her to marry him.

Her hand went to her mouth and tears began to flow.

Ron, misreading it completely, started to panic.

"Blimey! " he exclaimed, causing her to jump. "I nearly forgot." He dug around in his pockets and pulled out the little black velvet box and held it out to her, tentatively.

"Oh Ron," she whispered. "You bought a ring?" She took the box with shaking hands.

"Not exactly," he said sheepishly, afraid she might think him cheap.

She opened the box very slowly and saw the three small diamonds twinkling inside. She recognized her Great Grandmother Rose's ring immediately. Before her knees could give way completely she flung herself into Ron's arms, sobbing.

Ron, certain things had gone horribly wrong, tried to console her. "I'm sorry Hermione. I thought you'd like the ring. But, if you would rather pick something else..."

She grabbed the sides of his head with both hands and, punctuating each word by kissing him fiercely, said; "Shut up... Ronald... you sweet... stupid....wonderful... infuriating...."

It went on for some time, but finally ended with:

"yes... yes... of course... you git! I'll marry you!"

The words stopped. Then there was just kissing and tears, which went on a long while. Long enough that Ron's mind wandered back to when Harry told them how it had been kissing Cho..."Very wet," he had said. Ron struggled not to laugh; he was sure Hermione wouldn't understand.

Finally, they stood facing each other, her face streaked with tears

"I'm a mess..." she said with a laugh, wiping her eyes and looking away shyly.

Wiping a tear from her chin with his thumb and gently bringing her chin up so he could look into her eye he said, "You're beautiful...".

"Stop it, or I'll start crying again," she said, slapping him playfully on the arm. "I'm so sorry. I didn't get it at first." She took a deep breath and went on, "You were trying to propose. And there I was, Miss Know-It-All, lecturing you that you weren't doing it right! I'm such a shrew! I ruined your moment... my… _our…_ 'perfect' moment."

"Nothing's going to be simple with us is it?" he said, smiling. "But you said 'Yes'! How could anything possibly ruin...," but he didn't get to finish. He was interrupted by several large booms that echoed over the water, streaks of silver light racing into the night sky above the castle.

"Oh no…," Ron said, watching in disbelief as the rockets rose, "not…"

* * *

"Fireworks," Harry thought.

Not imaginary ones in the ceiling of Kings Cross, real ones, exploding over the Castle. He realized he had no idea how long he had been standing there, his hand on Fred's name. His other hand, however, was tightly clenched in both of Ginny's. He had no idea when that happened either. He looked at her as she gazed up at the display and saw the flashes from the rockets reflected in tears on her cheeks too. But she'd never let go. That's when he realized he needed to stop living in the past. He had more important things to do with his life. Here and now.

* * *

"... Fireworks." Ron finished, appalled. "I didn't know...really." But Hermione didn't hear, she had squealed with delight and spun around clapping at the explosions.

* * *

After the first volley of normal looking explosions the magical ones began. The unmistakable image of Hogwarts castle appeared in the sky. Above it, the insignia of the four houses bloomed, with attendant cheers from the crowd in the field below. When the Slytherin banner flew there were a few good natured boos, followed by laughter. The Gryffindor colors drew the loudest cheers of all.

Then, there were more ominous low booms and the colors grew darker and a great green snake symbol appeared on the edge of the scene. It was much less sinister than the Dark Mark, which was still outlawed, but its meaning was clear. This drew boos and hisses from the crowd. Streaks of greenish sparks flew towards the image of the Castle accompanied by great crashing sounds. Flames began to rise. Briefly, all that could be seen was the snake and the flames. The crowd fell silent. Then, bright shining figures swooped in: stylized Witches and Wizards, Centaurs, and House Elves. Gold streaks flew from them towards the snake. The crowd roared. Several smaller snake figures broke away from the larger one and green streaks flew against the gold. The battle raged on in firework form. Then, from the midst of the defenders, a bright silver streak, larger than the gold ones and shaped like a lightning bolt, shot across the gap and shattered the large snake figure. The smaller snakes faded and fizzled away. The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers. The scene faded and was replaced by a huge red and gold phoenix that filled the sky. It titled it's head and a silvery tear fell towards the burning Castle. It transformed into the "WWW" logo of "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" before exploding in a silver cascade, which in turn was replaced by the image of the Castle, whole again, and shining brightly. A finale of normal star bursts and streamers ended the show.

It was pandemonium in the meadow below. People were laughing and hugging, hats were thrown, and the band blared the school fight songs. It was like a World Cup victory celebration.

* * *

By the lake, Hermione was cheering and jumping around. Ron, however, was fuming. He thought his brother should have told him what was going to happen. It could have ruined everything!

* * *

By the Monument, Ginny, too, was cheering and laughing. But Harry was thinking about the lightning bolt image. He thought it was a little too obvious that it represented him, and someone should have asked his permission. He didn't want any more attention.

* * *

Simultaneously, Harry and Ron muttered, "George."


	7. Chapter 7

**The Lake. Pt.2**

Hermione practically dragged Ron back around the lake and into the crowd. By the time they got there the original riotous level of the celebration had dropped to one resembling mere hysteria. There was laughter and singing, toasting and jostling. But, there were also pockets of stillness here and there. In these pockets small groups stood or sat, and talked quietly amongst themselves. The Weasley blanket was a mixture: Molly and Arthur sat and watched, sipping wine and smiling indulgently as the younger people did all the carrying-on. George and Percy were dancing around each other with their arms linked singing a Gryffindor House song. The Veelas had joined Bill and Fleur after closing down the joke shop stall. (A group of enthralled male admirers stared hopefully at them from the edge, hoping to catch their eye.)

Ron and Hermione pushed past the last of the revelers that ringed the blanket and stumbled to a stop. No one noticed them at first until Molly glanced up.

"Oh there you are," she said. "I hope you kids had a good view, if not you missed quite a show." She took one look at Hermione's blotchy face and puffy eyes and jumped to her feet. "What's the matter, Dear? You've been crying or I'm a garden gnome!"

"Go on Ron," Hermione whispered in his ear. "They're your family. Tell them." She shoved him forward. By now the others on the blanket had noticed Molly's distress and were staring at Ron.

"Well..." he stammered. "I... ah... that is, we... well."

Hermione was hopping form one foot to the other.

"You all know that Hermione and I..." he continued. He had never considered that this might be even harder than the actual proposal. "We've known each other a long time- since first year."

"What eez he babbling about?" Fleur asked Bill, loudly enough to derail Ron again.

Hermione, no longer able to stand it, stomped her foot, groaned loudly, and extended her left hand towards the group wriggling her fingers. Her Great Grandmothers small but sparkly diamonds shined in the magic globe light. Molly's hand flew to her mouth, a sound somewhere between a cry and a hysterical laugh forced its way past. She flew the distance to Hermione in a instant, wrapped her in a crushing hug, and lifted her completely off the ground. Hermione was laughing through tears again. Ron looked stunned that it all happened so fast.

"Why didn't you just do that in the first place?" he muttered to himself.

That second was all it took for everyone else to catch up. The blanket erupted in cheers and hugs. Ron was buffeted, shoved, and slapped on the back. Shouts of, "Well done!" and, "'bout time!" hit him from all directions. Then his father was there shaking his hand vigorously.

"Good show, son!" he said, then he leaned in and added, "I thought I might need to have a talk with you, the way you've been carrying on lately. I thought you might chase her off with your moods. Always hoped you'd work it out, but didn't want to intrude, you know."

"Had it completely under control Dad," Ron lied, standing up straight.

Molly was still blubbering incoherently. She kept holding Hermione at arm's length, as if to assure herself that she was really there, and then smothering her in a hug again. The only intelligible words she could manage were the occasional "wonderful" and "my darling girl".

Fleur, sincerely happy, had laughed and clapped like everyone else, but she couldn't help but raise her eyebrows at Molly and comment to Bill, "She did not act like zat when we told her WE were getting marreed." Bill gave her a look and she exhaled and let it go. "Hermione eez a lovely girl." she said unconvincingly, looking down her nose at her. "But for ze wedding, she desperately needs my 'elp." She turned back to her cousins and they put their heads together, speaking in rapid French while occasionally casting an appraising look in Hermione's oblivious direction.

Harry and Ginny approached the Weasley blanket and saw the family surrounding Ron and Hermione. "What's going on you reckon?" Ginny asked. Harry suspected he knew, but didn't want to spoil the surprise.

"Don't know, why don't you go find out?"

He couldn't completely hide his grin and she threw him a suspicious look, but she ran ahead anyway. She stopped on the blanket just outside the huddle of her family.

Hermione saw Ginny over Molly's shoulder and pulled away. The group froze and watched. Hermione and Ginny locked eyes, Ginny obviously puzzled. Hermione, beyond words for the second time that night just raised her left hand beside her face, ring out. Ginny didn't notice the ring at first and looked even more confused. Then realization hit, her eyes widening to saucers and she glanced from Hermione to Ron and back. They stood like that for what seemed like minutes until Ginny let out a piercing scream that was answered by Hermione's own ear-splitting squeal. They slammed together, jumped around in a circle, and continued to scream.

For several blankets around people stopped and stared, trying to see what horrible creature had just appeared in their midst. Eventually, the screaming stopped and the girls separated.

Ginny hugged Ron savagely. "This," she told him forcefully, "makes up for every stupid, annoying thing you've ever done!"

"That, obviously, was my motivation," he said, rolling his eyes.

They all noticed Harry then, standing on the edge of the blanket, his arms crossed, looking sternly at Ron. "I guess you didn't botch it up too badly then?" he asked.

"Nearly," Ron said glancing sullenly at George. "Thought the bloody fireworks would ruin everything."

"Yeah," Harry said, as his eyes followed Ron's to George. "We need to have a talk with him about those."

George looked a little sheepish and stepped behind Percy.

Hermione looked from one to the other in total incomprehension.

Harry couldn't hold the pose any longer; he laughed, rushed forward, and hugged them both. The band, that had been playing in their grandstand seats, chose that moment to start marching in a line through the crowd as they played.

Harry and Ron looked at the band, then at each other. "Sure," Ron sighed, defeated. "Why not?" He started peering around, searchingly, and asked, "Where do you s'pose they hid the clowns?"

* * *

Later, after visiting with friends at Hogwarts, the family returned to the Burrow. Harry arrived in a warm fog from his goodbye walk around the Lake with Ginny. She had to stay and finish her last couple of weeks of school. Hermione rejoined them after a quick trip home to tell her parents about the engagement. The women had congregated in the sitting room with tea, the men in the back yard with pipes and glasses of elf-made wine and fire whiskey_._

Harry and Ron had cornered George as soon as they could break away from the rest of the family. Harry made it clear that he didn't want any repeat performances of the 'lightning bolt battling the snake' in fireworks, or any other form.

"But Harry," George argued. "Did you hear them? They loved it! You're a hero. It would be the most popular fireworks display in the country. Every major event will want it. We could make thousands!"

"I've told you George," Harry answered sternly. "I don't want the attention I already get. No more lightning bolts!"

George finally agreed, but Harry wondered if he had some loop hole he couldn't see. You never knew with George.

Ron still couldn't get George to admit that he should have been included in the planning of the celebration, and the engagement was still the primary topic of conversation among the men in the back yard.

"Do you think he knows that the Imperius curse is still banned?" George asked Percy. They had walked up behind Ron and spoke loudly enough for him to hear. "Dunno?" Percy answered. "Maybe it's just love potions, but he'll need a life time supply, won't he?"

"Ha. Ha." Ron pantomimed. "You know," he said, turning to look at George. "I never had a problem telling you and Fred apart. HE was the funny one."

"Ow!," George said, clutching his heart. "Good one, little brother." He punched Ron in the shoulder. "You just might work out after all."

"Well, now that you bring it up, I've been meaning to talk to you about an idea I have for a product for the shop."

"Really? What's that?

"I've been working on a set of self knotting shoe laces. When the wearer stops moving they untie themselves and then retie into one big knot, locking the shoes together."

"Brilliant!" George exclaimed. "Do they work?"

"Well, they untie, and then knot up again. But, so far they just knot themselves to whatever is closest, like chair legs and shrubs. I can't work out how to get them to knot to each other again."

"That's hilarious! I'm not sure that's a problem, but we can work on it together."

"Really? That's great!"

"Harry?" Hermione called from the back door. "Can I have word, privately?"

"Sure," Harry replied. He gave Ron a slap on the back as he headed towards the back door.

"I don't know Ron," George said. "Do you trust this bloke to wonder off with your bride-to-be like that?" This elicited a chorus of chuckles from the rest of the men. But the brothers immediately went back to discussing the trick laces.

"Honestly," Hermione said. "You should consider growing up, the lot of you." But the smile in her voice spoiled the intended scolding. She linked her arm in Harry's and pulled him into a slow walk out of the back yard and around the house.

"What's up?" Harry asked after they had gone far enough not to be overheard. It was much darker around this side of the house and he could barely make out her features as she talked.

"I just wanted to thank you." She stopped and kissed him on the cheek. "My parents are thrilled."

"I don't think I had much to do with that. It's Ron you're marrying."

"Of course it's Ron." she said, exasperated. "But, he never would have thought to go and talk to them if it hadn't been for you. That let my mother give him my Great Grandmother's ring, which meant everything to her, and me."

"Well," Harry said, embarrassed. "I have to be honest; I was really just having a go at him. He was so nervous, I couldn't resist."

"I suspected that when he said you explained how HUGELY important a muggle tradition it was." Harry could feel her eyes roll in the dark. "But it doesn't really matter why you did it. It was brilliant. My parents are going to meet with Ron's this week to start planning. Mrs. Weasley is very concerned that my Mum has her proper say in the arrangements. We're both hoping she'll agree to have the wedding at the Burrow, like Bill and Fleur's, which brings me to the next thing I wanted to talk to you about."

"I can't be your maid of honor. Ron has already asked me to be the best man. Ow!" He winced, as she poked him in the ribs.

"This is serious," she laughed, "Besides, Ginny has already agreed to be my maid of honor so I don't need you."

"Sure, you say that now that I've refused...."

"Stop it." They were both laughing now.

"Ok, ok, what is it?"

"Well," she said as she paused to take a breath. "We haven't set a date yet, but it won't be until sometime next spring."

"That's nice." Harry said, flatly.

"What I'm trying to say is," she continued in her lecture tone. "There is plenty of time. Ginny will be out of school in a couple of weeks and..." she trailed off in hopes that Harry would take the hint.

"Ah..." Harry said, catching on. "You're thinking that maybe there should be a double wedding?"

"Can't you see it Harry?" she said with growing excitement. "Wouldn't it be amazing, the four of us?"

"Yeah," he said, his tone growing serious. "That's the problem, I CAN see it."

"What do you mean?"

"I can see it turning into another Harry Potter media circus. The headlines would be, _'Harry Potter, Hero of the Wizarding World, to Wed'_.

Then, buried on page 10 in fine print, _'Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, friends of Harry Potter, following as usual, will marry on the same day'_."

"Besides, that," he continued. "How much attention do you think Ron would get from his own family if the youngest child, and only daughter, were getting married the same day? Not that they'd do it intentionally, but they couldn't help it could they? Ron's been playing second fiddle to somebody his whole life- his brothers, then me. I don't want to ruin..."

He didn't get to finish. Hermione had stopped walking and as he drew up at their arms' length and turned towards her she launched herself at him and crushed him in a hug.

Letting go she brushed a tear from her eye. "I thought I was done crying for tonight."

"It's not that I don't think it would be great…" Harry tried to go on.

"Shush, Harry," she interrupted. "You're right. I can't believe I didn't see it."

"I did noticed, though," she continued slyly, as they starting to walk again. "You didn't even bat an eye at the IDEA of marrying Ginny did you? Do you have a plan for her 'perfect moment'?"

Now it was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "I never said it had to be 'perfect'....that was your fiancé."

"Yeah, it was, wasn't it?" she replied dreamily, but she snapped out of it quickly. "Don't try to change the subject. You didn't answer my question."

"That's because it's none of your business, Miss Granger." he replied in his best McGonagall impersonation, and they both laughed.

"So," she said as they arrived at the front of the house and started through the door.

"What exactly DID you and my mother talk about over tea?"


	8. Chapter 8

**The Lighthouse.**

_"The cure for everything is saltwater, sweat, tears, or the sea."  
Isak Dineson_

Ron and Hermione's wedding was the first Saturday in May the following year. It was at the Burrow, as Hermione had wanted, and everyone had a wonderful time. In addition to all of the Weasleys' extended family, most of the D.A., many Hogwarts Professors, and the surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix were there. Ron, after some convincing, allowed Harry to foot the bill for their Honeymoon as his wedding present: a two week trip to Europe. The last week would be spent in Paris, where Hermione would show Ron all the things she wanted to share from her earlier trip for the Ministry. It was while they were away that Harry asked Ginny to join him on a trip to Shell Cottage to visit Dobby's grave. Bill and Fleur were away visiting Fleur's family, so they would be alone.

It was a beautiful spring day: blue sky, puffy white clouds, and the smell of the sea on the steady breeze. The grave had changed little since Harry had laid Dobby to rest there. There were additional flowers planted around, and a small stone bench sat nearby. Bill didn't know how it came to be there, but he suspected that House Elves maintained the area. Harry placed a small wreath on the stone pile and stood for a minute, head bowed. He had visited many times and it had become routine, but this time, it was almost two years to the day. After spending a few minutes in quiet reflection, Harry led Ginny by the hand to the edge of the cliffs where they stood for several minutes looking out at the sea and the sky.

"Lovely day for a fly along the coast, eh?" Harry asked

"Sure," she answered. "But, we Apperated here, remember? We don't have brooms." Harry just smiled and led her back to the cottage and around to a shed by the garden. He opened the door and produced two new Firebolts with a flourish.

"Ta Da!"

"You just happened to stash a couple here?" she asked suspiciously, taking the one he held out to her.

"Never know when you'll need one," he answered with a shrug. "You want to fly or ask questions? You're it!" He tapped her shoulder, jumped on, and shot into the air, leaving her staring after him. She knew he was up to something but couldn't resist, so, with a grin and a swirl of red hair, she gave chase.

Flying was Harry's second favorite thing to do with Ginny. They were both excellent flyers and naturally competitive. When they were at school he had been clearly better, but not anymore. She was flying professionally now and he hadn't competed in years. Only his head start, and the fact that she wasn't really trying, allowed him to stay ahead of her as they raced north along the coast. Harry swooped around and through the occasional puffy little cloud, laughing with the sheer joy of it. He had lost track of her and was looking back over his right shoulder when she closed from his left and punched him hard.

"Ow!" he yelled. "I thought it was 'tag' not 'pummel'?"

"You deserved it," she laughed, then grew more serious. "What are we really doing up here Harry?"

"Let me show you," he said. With a knowing look he started descending toward a path that wound through a rocky hillside below. She landed beside him in a narrow space between two high boulders and waited.

"This path," he said, looking into her eyes before continuing. "…leads down out of these rocks and on towards the sea. It comes to a gate in a stone wall. Behind the wall is a building that was once a lighthouse."

"Ok," she answered, thinking it sounded odd, like he was reciting from memory.

"Great!" he said, his voice returning to normal. "Let's go."

They walked down the path, through the boulders, and eventually came to a place where they could see all the way to the sea again. Just as he described, there was a wall with a metal kissing gate between two large pillars. Behind it, on a narrow spit of land jutting out towards the sea was a two-story stone house with a tall peaked roof. Attached to the building on the ocean side was a tower that reached up considerably higher and had obviously been the light at one time. From this angle the tower appeared completely enclosed now. Ginny wondered why she hadn't noticed this place from the air.

"Harry, are you sure we should be--"

"Don't worry," he interrupted, grinning. "I have the owner's permission."

The metal gates magically swung open as they drew near. Harry didn't even pause as he led her through. Ginny noticed that there were stone statues on top of the pillars on either side of the gate, Lions Rampant, the emblem of Gryffindor. As they approached the house she noticed the tall arched-top windows and the arched wooden front door. In the center of the door was a large brass lion's head with a knocker held in its mouth in the shape of a "P".

"All right, Harry," she finally said. "What's going on?"

"About a year ago," he began. "I was flying up this way and noticed the ruins of this building. I asked Bill about it later. I told him I really liked being near the sea, the quiet, the privacy… He started asking me questions about what I would want in a house of my own, he took notes and everything."

"But you have a house, on Grimmauld Place."

"Yeah, I own it," he said. "But it's not my home. I'll keep it, it's Kreacher's home after all. It's conveniently located and still somewhat protected by the Fidelius Charm. I've told Kingsley he could use it for Auror business if he needed it."

"Anyway," he continued. "A few months after my first conversation with Bill he asked me to meet him out here. There were a lot of people with him, some Wizzards, some Goblins. They were all working on the place and they had loads of questions for me… some decisions I had to make, stuff like that. I asked Bill how much all this was going to cost and he just smiled."

All she could manage to say as she looked around was, "Wow."

"Apparently," he added. "There are some advantages to being 'The Harry Potter' in the post-Voldemort world. Come on, let me show you around."

Harry pulled the door open and let Ginny enter first. The house was empty and her steps echoed on the stone floor. They stood on a small landing that connected to a larger room through an arched entry way. They went under the arch and entered a room with a large fireplace and built-in book cases. There was an exit straight across the room that led to the rest of the house and on either end were two winding stair cases.

"Those lead up to bedrooms," Harry said, pointing at the stairs. "There are three on each side."

"Wait," Ginny said, her eyes widening. "I recognize this room! Add some stuffed chairs and a few tables and this would be the Gryffindor common room!"

"I told you," Harry said, smiling. "They asked me what I'd want in my house. So, I told them what my favorite rooms were."

She just shook her head as he led her through the hall towards the back of the house. They entered a large open room with windows down one side. Down the center was the only piece of furniture Ginny had seen yet, a long wooden table with sixteen chairs. But, what caused Ginny to catch her breath was the ceiling. It reflected the blue sky and puffy clouds outside, as if there were no ceiling at all.

"Cool, huh?" Harry asked, his voice echoing in the cavernous room. "They tell me it's the only one like it outside of Hogwarts."

Speechless, all she could do was stare.

"The kitchen is through here," he said, and led her out of the dining hall. "You might recognize this one too," he added with a sly glance.

Compared to the rest of the house the kitchen was rather small with a fireplace in one wall and a table and chairs in the middle.

"Harry!" she exclaimed. "This is our kitchen, at the Burrow."

"Yep, one of my favorite rooms of all," he said, beaming.

"I really don't believe this," she said, stunned.

Instead of exiting the back of the house, like the Burrow, a doorway led to the base of the light tower. There was a door to the outside from here, but also stairs leading up. Harry led her up to the first landing.

"That's the master bedroom," he said, nodding in the direction of a door into the second floor, then he continued on up, spiraling around the inside of the tower. After two more flights of stairs, broken by a landing with an arched window that looked back over the house, they arrived at a wooden door on another small landing.

Harry pushed the door inward and entered a round room at the top of the tower. Where the revolving light had once shined out over the sea, there was now an office. Directly across from the door was a desk that faced them. Behind it, three floor-to-ceiling glass panels offered a magnificent view of the ocean and the now setting sun. The rest of the glass had been replaced with solid walls that alternated between shelves and open wall space. On the open walls there were four large paintings, two on either side of the door.

As viewed from the desk, they were left to right: Severus Snape, standing in his potions classroom with his arms crossed, staring out with his trademark sneer; Dumbledore, seated at the desk in his Headmaster's office surrounded by his devices and clutter. He peered over folded hands, his half-moon glasses low on his nose. Then, to the right of the door, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Fred, and Mad Eye were seated at the table in the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place laughing and raising their goblets in a frozen toast, and the final one was James and Lily embracing outside their neat little cottage in Godric's Hollow.

"They're amazing," Ginny said softly, admiring each picture in turn and walking over to look more closely at Fred.

"You don't have to whisper," Harry said loudly, causing her to jump. "We're not in a library."

"I know," she said with a laugh. "But Harry," she added then, turning quickly towards him. "Do they...?" Her voice trailed off as she looked sideways at the portrait of Snape.

"Talk?" He laughed. "No, they're just normal paintings."

She laughed with him, shaking her head. "Well, you have to admit, with everything else..."

"Yeah, but there's only so much they could do. Come on, let's go back down."

They closed the door behind them and clomped loudly down the stairs. If they had lingered a little longer at the door they would have heard the rushing sound of exhaled breaths, followed by giggling. Then a voice that sounded much like Snape's asked, "How long do you intend to continue this childish charade?" followed by much louder laughter.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs Harry turned and exited the tower. A path led away from the house towards the point of the promontory. The sun was setting now and the light that splashed against the bottom of the clouds was changing from yellowish gold to shades of purple and deep wine red, all of it mirrored in the surface of the calm sea. At the edge of the cliff was a stone patio ringed by a low railing, from it a stair wound down the side of the cliff to the beach some thirty feet below. They took seats on a large bench there and gazed out at the bewitching sunset.

"It's really amazing Harry," Ginny said, resting her head on his shoulder. "I couldn't see it when we flew in… you had to tell me about it."

"Yeah, a Fidelius Charm, I'm Secret Keeper. Kingsley suggested it if I were going to move out of Grimmauld Place. He's worried that an ex-Death Eater might try to find me, or…" he looked into her eyes, "my family."

"Family?" she asked, sitting up straight.

"Well, I have a house now. I was hoping you might help me make it a home?"

"Are you asking…," she paused, then smiled mischievously. "Harry, is this my 'moment'?"

Harry sighed, took her hands in his, looked into her eyes, and earnestly said,

"I'm going to strangle Hermione."

Ginny laughed out loud. "You didn't expect her to not tell me did you?"

"Ok, if you're not interested...." he made to stand up, but she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him roughly towards her. She looked in his eyes again, neither of them were laughing now.

"I'm thinking about it....." then she was kissing him, and they slowly sank back onto the bench.

Harry wasn't sure how much time passed, but it was almost dark when he sat up and looked around.

"So?" he asked, out of breath. "Can I take that as a 'Yes'?"

"Of course it's a 'Yes'." She sighed and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "But..."

"But?" He sat up straight.

"It's just....look, I know we don't have family heirlooms like Hermione. But, I thought her ring was....special. Romantic."

"You?" Harry exaggerated his surprise. "Romantic?" She elbowed him, but he thought she blushed a little, embarrassed.

"I did give it some thought," he continued.

"Really?" she asked, hopefully.

"I don't think our rings should be traditional, like Hermione's."

"Our rings?"

"So," he went on. "I talked to a couple of Goblins who were here to work on the house and I came up with my own design."

He reached under the bench and pulled up a small wooden box. It was elaborately inlaid with delicate gold wires in a pattern of entwined flowering vines.

"You hid that ahead of time," she said, accusingly. Her wand appeared in her hand instantly and she whispered, "Lumos". The light formed a warm golden bubble around them in the growing dark.

Harry opened the box towards her. Inside, nestled in individual pockets of felt, were two rings. The smaller ring was platinum with delicate gold inlay in a stylized vine pattern like the one on the box. The larger one was gold with the same pattern inlayed in platinum. The stones were oval and smooth, the one in the smaller ring was white and the larger one was black. The stones weren't completely opaque except, deep inside them, small magical lights swirled slowly.

"They're beautiful," she whispered.

"They're more than that," he said.

He reached for her left hand and lifted her ring from the box and slipped it on. He put his on as well and immediately felt a warm tingle that started at the ring and moved up his arm.

"What...," Ginny gasped, having just felt the same thing.

"Don't worry, that's supposed to happen. All we should have to do now is look at the ring and say the name."

Harry rose, turned, and walked a few steps away, keeping is back to her.

"Ginny?" he asked in the direction of his raised left hand. The stone glowed brighter than before and the lights started to spin faster until they were a blur.

"Harry...my ring is getting warm...just like our DA galleons!"

A flat disk of light expanded out of the ring and floated in the air before Harry's eyes. Clearly visible in it was Ginny's astonished face. He grinned at her.

"Amazing!" she said in stereo, her voice coming from both the Ginny in the ring and the real one behind him. "How far apart can they work?"

"No idea. But the mirrors, which use similar magic, would have worked between Hogwarts and Grimmauld Place at least."

Ginny ran to Harry and he turned just in time to catch her as she launched herself into his arms.

'They're wonderful!" she said into his neck. "My turn, but from a bit further away. Wait here." She let go and started running back towards the house.

A few moments later Harry's ring started to grow warm. He held it up and saw the now familiar blurring of the facets and Ginny's face appeared in the air.

"Hi," she said coyly. "I think I'm going to like these."

"Me too. Where are you?" Harry asked.

"At the front door, where we left the brooms. Let's get back. I can't wait to tell Mum and Dad. I'll race you to Shell Cottage."

"What's the bet?" Harry asked, in their now familiar ritual.

"Oh, the usual," she said. Harry was pleased to see that the smoldering look in her eyes came through the rings loud and clear.

"You're on."

She laughed and the image winked out. The distant echo of the same laugh could be heard as she streaked into the air. Harry smiled and walked deliberately towards his new house. He wasn't in any hurry. As to their 'usual' bet, he still hadn't worked out what he liked better, winning or losing.

**The End.**


End file.
